Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
by WhiteFrock
Summary: Modern day AU (Sticking as closely to the storyline as possible) Focusing mostly on Sybil/Branson, Anna/Bates & Mary/Matthew.
1. She walks in beauty

**Writer's note: This is modern day, but not AU. The exact story of Downton set 100 years after the series. Focusing mainly on Sybil/Branson, Anna/Bates and Mary/Matthew but there will be more.**

Lord Grantham got a new chauffer. The responsible driver company had assured him of the man's honesty, dedication and hard work, as well as his prior experience, so he decided to give him a chance. Besides, the last chauffer, Mr. Taylor, had retired and moved closer to London to pursue his lifelong dream of becoming a tea specialist. "Too English," Robert thought, as he bid farewell to his pas employee. And Branson seemed fit as a replacement – he was witty, broad-shouldered and, as his employer had put it, "a bright spark after poor old Taylor".

…..

"Sybil, you can go to Oxford Street, in London, to shop; if you like"

"Mama, you know I'd rather go somewhere less…-"

"Fancy," interrupted Edith.

"Yes," replied the brunette meekly, as they headed towards the car on their usual visit to their grandmother. "Well, Mama, I'll go… but can it be my choice, at least this time?"

"Isn't it usually?" Cora asked with what felt like the shadow of a giggle.

"You never let me wear purples or blues… only blacks for evening dinners, pinks for most of my normal day clothes and whites in general! It is getting quite tiring".

"I don't think purple would suit you. But you are wearing blue right now!," replied Cora with her caring eyes scanning her daughter's clothes for a few seconds.

Sybil looked at her clothes, realizing what she had said wasn't entirely accurate. "It is my only blue shirt, and my only proper pair of blue jeans. And you haven't even allowed me to- " she was stopped by her sister.

"Sybil, dear, you are exaggerating. Though… what would you like?"

"Something new and exciting!" Those words captured someone else's attention, one who had not been paying attention to the conversation – and the words that followed intrigued him even more.

"Oh, shut up, dear – she is gonna go on about feminism and double standards or whatever".

Branson found Lady Edith to be quite rude. Rivalry? Envy of the other teenager's looks? He couldn't know. Still, it bothered him.

"Sybil, darling, ignore your sister. You can choose whatever you like!"

"Thank you, Mama!".

Tom had already decided that he liked the Countess, and felt a slight preference to Lady Sybil over the other two daughters. He smiled; and Sybil did, too, not knowing that it was a grin shared by one more than those who were being driven around.

Tom was deeply interested in history and politics, more in the latter than the former, and often considered it as a career. His studies in Dublin consisted of both history and politics, though a part of him enjoyed journalism and writing as well. He knew that he could combine both, but he was unsure of his job opportunities, and working as a chauffer made him earn enough money to send back home – to his ill, middle-aged mother, his elder brother and young cousins, all suffering economically and with Tom as their sole support. He had some substantial driving training, after spending a year in a school specializing on chauffer training, and after his graduation, he started working as the chauffer of the elder, but busy, Mrs. Redgrave. When she passed away, he sought work elsewhere, until the Crawleys hired him. He was originally thought to be too young – 23 is not the typical age for a chauffer, particularly one for a rich family. Still, he got the job and felt proud of it. _"It is for them_," he'd think on some of the gloomier and sadder days, when he would miss Ireland and his family and everything he had left there.

….

"Edith, stop watching that terrible Bollywood film – you know I hate their culture!"

"Robert, it might not be the most pleasing of cultures, but you don't have to hate it," his wife said calmly.

Sybil was in the middle of reading for the third time her favourite novel, Persuasion, as she sat with Edith, curled up under the fleece blanket usually used to cover up the couch, when she thought of something incredible. Her cheeks reddened and she suddenly became quite cheery. _He hates Bollywood. He hates their culture._

"What's with you?"

"Nothing"

It was not that. It was so much more.

….

"Sybil, how was your trip to Oxford Street? I am sorry Mama and I couldn't come, but I was busy and she had appointments at her office".

"That's alright, Papa," she said, giving him a half hug.

"Did you find anything good?," he asked with slight indifference.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did". Her lovely smile shone.

"That's good, honey". He changed conversational partners, switching from his youngest daughter to Mary and Matthew, who were discussing the latter's career so far and the former's time as a final year student in Oxford. Matthew had gone to Cambridge for his bachelor degree and to Oxford for his postgraduate, with a specialty in industrial law. He actually worked as a solicitor. Both interested Lord Grantham far more than his baby's trips to clothing stores.

Sybil's mind was captivated by other things; the conversation in the car with Branson, how he gave her those books on feminism and she hurried to hide them in her bag, how he spoke… She had never spoken to someone like that before. It made her heart flutter and that was all quite new to her. Although she was 16, nearly 17, she was homeschooled, and she had never met a boy or a man who spoke to her like that, with the same manner of respect and equality. As if they were equals. Her family treated her as their baby, so she never really felt equal to them, and the rest of her society and of course, the servants, treated her as if she were superior to them in every way. It captured her attention immidietely. Any boy she ever met treated her as simply the youngest daughter of the Earl of Grantham, a shy but spoiled rich girl. She didn't like being in the spotlight, and generally preferred to stay away from it; but besides her sensible mind, she had a passionate heart, which was far stronger and far more powerful than anything else. It ruled her.

"Of course, it's impossible… even if you ignore the fact that he's at least in his twenties, he is the chauffer. It's not far-fetched, it's impossible! It is not even a crush…" she tried to console herself by thinking those words for a little while. And that was all that she contemplated about on the matter.

…..

"Whatever is holding Sybil up? She should've been down here by now, she's usually never late"

Sybil was upstairs, still. After she had encouraged Gwen, a housemaid in her 20s who wanted to go to university but never had the chance to, she decided it was time to wear the brand new clothes she had bought. She asked Anna for help to do her hair, and when it was done… she went downstairs.

….

Her father was shocked, same as her conservative grandmother – her sisters and mother were flabbergasted, and Matthew and Isobel seemed to… approve? To be proud? Matthew knew of Robert's hate towards Eastern cultures, and found Sybil's choice of outfit adorable in a fun way. She was the sister he knew the least about. Edith had tried to initiate conversation with him many times, and Mary was very close to him, at least in comparison to the other Crawley girls. He felt very brotherly towards the 17-year-old and genuinely hoped they would be close friends in the future.

After her father asked her to go and change, and her sisters had made every possible Princess Jasmine and Bollywood joke they could come up with, she noticed someone staring at her from the window. She knew it! Branson had seen her. When she turned towards where she thought he was... he was gone.

"_Thank you, Branson_," she thought.


	2. Love is patient, love is kind

_Writer's note: Thank you for both reviews! As for the grammatical mistakes, I fixed whatever I could find (and the full stops before tags, sadly Microsoft Word kept telling me it was grammatically wrong to have them after tags, but now it looks quite odd).I really wanted to show Sybil's personality exactly set today and not make her a rebellious teenager with blue hair who parties all day and doesn't care for anyone until she meets Branson – I wanted her to be realistic, and I know that her rebelliousness wouldn't be transformed into that if brought to the 2010s. She knew that Robert hated Bollywood and the Eastern cultures (like in season 3 he hates Catholics just because) so she knew that would anger him and show him that, "Hey, look, I have opinions, I am not just your baby". They have to seem overprotective and that is why modern!Sybil would want to be more free. Also, Sybil still has to be remembered as "the sweetest soul" and I still wanted her to care about feminism and politics, and you will also get to see how she gets into nursing. I have a very clear idea of how that can work out, though the prospect is quite upsetting. I hope you enjoy this one!_

On Mr. Bates's arrival, Anna greeted him with as much respect as he deserved – a great deal. They bonded almost instantly, from the first time they talked. There was a connection, in a way – not sparks flying in the air or cheesy romantic music playing every time they were together, but both wouldn't have seemed out of the normal for Anna. She felt them. While there was barely any time for the men and women who worked as part of the staff in Downton Abbey to bond as friends, or even have a romantic relationship, Anna had managed to get to know nearly the entire staff. She was like a sister to Gwen and the other housemaids, close to Daisy, friends with William, and had even managed to get O'Brien to talk about her family a few times.

Anna had never really maintained a serious romantic relationship, though. She had had boyfriends, she'd gone on dates, but her work was so incredibly time-consuming. She would go out with guys a few times, she would feel happy about the relationship, and then she'd have less and less free time to spend with them… and the relationship would collapse. This hadn't caused her to be bitter and nasty, as if she were a younger version of O'Brien – she was temperate, loving, encouraging and sweet, content with her work and friendships. But Mr. Bates, John – he was different. They felt natural together. They _were_ natural together.

She soon realized that she had deep feelings for this man, this man she had barely shaken hands with, one she hadn't even kissed. And that startled her. It consumed her thoughts.

As the staff were invited to attend the Dowager Countess's annual garden competition and party, she was determined to tell him how she felt on the way there. They left earlier than the others, thinking that a twenty minute walk would do both of them good, while some were taking the car and others were coming there later.

The place suddenly felt too isolated, the trees too green, the street she was walking on too empty, the weather far too hot… her head too light and her heart fluttering like an ensnared butterfly.

She had just tried to confront him about whatever he was keeping secret.

"I am not a free man," John murmured, trying to, but failing, to look away.

"So you are married?". The obvious pain in Anna's eyes startled him. It was only barely detectable, but it was there.

"I have been married, yes, but that's not all there is to it…."

"Because I… I love you, John. I know you might think it's foolish or naïve and no woman with a brain would ever dream of saying such a thing, but I am probably a brainless woman and I don't pretend to be a lady. Not this time."

Anna's chest ached even more. She was almost determined to cry at the first chance she had to be alone. What did her mother use to say? Oh, yeah. _Whenever things get bad, they will always get better_. They will.

But John's words stunned her.

"You are a lady to me. I never knew a finer one".

He… reciprocated her feelings? She had no time to contemplate on the matter, as that was just when William's 1997 Plymouth Prowler, a thirdhand car his parents got him using all their savings so he could visit them more often. It looked like it came out from the 1930s, and it was truly a car you could never think of as attractive, but it suited William well. Anna noticed that Daisy was on the passenger seat, and Thomas with Sarah O'Brien were sitting at the back.

"We have room for one more, would you like to come in, Anna?" asked William with his bright eyes glistening as he spoke. He was always a terribly sweet person, and she felt very proud of him, as if she really was his older sister.

"I think you must take Mr. Bates, Will. I will hurry to meet you there, though!". She needed some time alone to think about what had just happened, and she knew that it'd be better for John to avoid walking the distance.

"I mustn't slow you down, Anna… I have done way too much of that, already," he murmured under his breath, in a tone low enough for her to understand but not for Sarah and Thomas so understand what he said, as eager as they were to know what secret they had been talking about.

He got in and she was left alone, walking… thinking of John's words. She couldn't figure out what he meant, how he felt, but at the same time, she felt hope. She was determined to know more about him.

…

"_Go dream of a better man" _

"_I can't. Because there isn't one, John"._

…

When Anna was told she would be taking Mrs. Pattmore to London, so she can have eye surgery to fix her terrible cataracts, she jumped at the chance. She knew that London was Mr. Bates's last home before Downton. She was determined to discover the truth about his wife, his past, his entire life. She knew he wasn't a thief, or a drunkard, or anything he claimed to be. She needed to know who he was, really.

And she was determined to find out.

….

She was right.

And that feeling consumed her.

She was one step closer to being with Mr. Bates. And she was willing to fight. She would fight until her last breath left her body.


	3. Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall

Writer's note: Thank you so much, guys! (Please review and forward this to anyone who likes DA!) In this chapter I took the AU route for some stuff, but it actually works out quite well. Let's just say that I've found a way to combine the storyline of Sir Anthony/Edith, Vera/John and the Pamuk scandal... hopefully, you won't be disappointed. Remember to review! ^.^

...

Mary Crawley wasn't a particularly vain twenty-year-old girl. She was smart, characterized by a very refined kind of intelligence, nurtured under the tutelage of numerous important people in the world - great figures of society. Thus she was taught how to be even more witty and smart than before. She learnt to use her skills.

She was a third year undergraduate student of law at the University of Oxford, with the intention of becoming a barrister. Unlike her cousin Matthew, who was an introverted solicitor, she preferred the strong, competitive nature of being a barrister.

She was fierce; she could win every argument, and had a reputation of being a 'winner'. In life, in school, in her relationships with people, in everything. It was certainly helpful that she was a lady, born in an aristocratic family, with the reputation of being the absolute posh, rich people. Mary, Cora, and Robert, were often featured in gossip magazines as best dressed. They would go to big public events or galas together, and everyone knew of their unstained reputations; or at least, all three had managed to conceal any slight faults in their characters or personal lives.

Lady Rosamund Painswick was one of the most popular ladies with the press, as she was not only a controversial figure but because her powerful position in society made everyone terrified of her. So should a potential scandal were to be published by OK! Magazine, she would go to the publishing offices herself and prevent that from happening. If Mary partied with members of the Royal family and pictures were about to make it to the press, her aunt's powerful connections prevented it.

Mary did not wish to make it to covers of magazines and be featured, but certainly welcomed offers of being photographed or interviewed. Her popularity could potentially get the best of her someday, but she had made a conscious decision of living in the moment.

Lady Edith and Lady Sybil rarely made it to the papers. Edith would occasionally get featured in some obscure newspaper for her science achievements in school, and Sybil had been photographed by paparazzi once in London, shopping with her mother when she was 13. Edith secretly longed to be like Mary in that aspect, but Sybil didn't feel comfortable with it. Thankfully, both were used to the possibility of such a thing happening, that it didn't bother them so much.

….

Mary's close childhood friend, older by two years, Evelyn Napier, had been invited to Downton Abbey for a weekend of shooting and fishing, to meet the new additions to the Crawley family (Matthew and Isobel) and, although Cora would never admit it, she chose to invite him there as potential husband material for her eldest daughter.

"Mama, are you kidding me? I am not even 21 yet, seriously!" asked an exasperated Mary, with her face contorting to an all-consuming anger. Mary didn't have a quick temper, but as soon as she realized what her mother's intentions were regarding Evelyn, she became choleric.

"I am not saying you have to marry him… I just feel you need a stable, certain relationship", replied Cora, with her serene demeanor calming down the tension between them.

"I will choose my own boyfriends, and certainly my own husband as well as -"she was stopped by the sound of her ringtone. As Mary's iPhone rang and buzzed, Cora remained silent while she watched her daughter pick up the phone. "Oh, hi, Evelyn! How are you?" There was a slight pause. "I'm quite well too, thank you". Another pause, this time a longer one. "I am sure we can arrange that; I will call you back later. Bye".

"What is it?" asked the mother.

"Apparently, Eve has a friend from university, who studied Economics along with him in the states. They're best friends and he had agreed to stay with him in his home here, so he's going to have to come along to Downton".

"Really? Oh, who is the other man?"

"Apparently, he's Turkish, the son of the ambassador or something", replied Mary, already imagining what the young man could be like in her head.

"Oh, then he is certainly welcome!". The woman smiled, as the girl exchanged her necklace for a plainer one.

"I'm sure he is".

It seemed like a perfectly innocent invitation, whose outcome could only be positive. Little did they know, that a middle-aged, cold-eyed woman had a burning desire to ruin the Crawley family. She had made a promise to herself to bring shame to Downton, and she was going to do it - with every fibre of her being. As fiery as her passion was, that cold and grey her stare was. Yes, she was prepared to do anything to shame the Crawleys.

...

"Eve," said Kemal just before they were to arrive to Yorkshire, during their long train ride from London. "Are you sure the Crawleys won't mind?"

Kemal had, in fact, googled them in his phone. He had found Lord Grantham's wikipedia page and details about his family, including his three daughters; the olive-skinned youth felt drawn to the eldest daughter of the family, the one he suspected was the old friend Evelyn was talking about - the one with the alabaster complexion, the quizzical eyebrows, the slender body. So, subtle fishing for information from his friend felt perfectly alright.

"They won't, I checked with Cora".

"Cora?"

"The Countess of Grantham - I have known her all my life, so 'Your ladyship' or 'Lady Cora' are both too...-" Evelyn didn't manage to finish his sentence, but Kemal understood his meaning.

"So you know the family because you were friends with a daughter of theirs?". Kemal's charm overcame his eagerness.

"Lady Mary. She is actually only a little younger than me, even though she looks older; and she's absolutely fierce. You might like her, actually".

That was when the train arrived at the Downton station. The young men took a cab and sent their luggage to Downton, whilst they chose to have lunch at a public, popular restaurant with Evelyn and a few other young chaps the latter knew from his childhood years spent in Yorkshire. Then they walked to the Grantham village, and went straight to Downton to dress and go riding with Lady Mary.

She was already out, riding. It was a habit she'd had ever since she was a child, to go out riding alone. Even in her apartment in Oxford, she'd often drop everything to go riding every once in a while. She found it liberating. So when she was at Downton, she would ride every week.

As soon as both young men were ready, they took two browns and rode off to find Mary. Cold days were always Mary's favourites... a sense of fullfilment consummed her whenever she rode on those chilly afternoons, followed by even colder nights.

As she observed the sky, ready to take in as much as she possibly could from the dreafully British - but happily dry - weather... she heard the sound of a horse rattling close by to her, and realized that Evelyn was standing next to her, on his horse - and she could barely make out another figure quite far from where they were standing, riding as well, at a slow, but steady pace.

"Evelyn, how nice! I was beginning to wonder what monsters had eaten you up," she said, with her wild fierceness framing her eyes.

"We actually got a little lost, but thankfully, we are here now - oh". Mary turned to look towards the direction of Eve's eyes. It was a man. Mary's interesting eyebrows turned upwards, intrigued by the sight.

Kemal's brown eyes glistened brightly - his refined, distinctive jaw brought intensity to the dark-skinned youth's face. Mary felt, perhaps for the first time in months, utterly fascinated by the stranger.

...

"He is dead! Oh, no - God, I am sure he is dead. He's dead!"

"How..."

"We were together... and he's dead!"

"We will go up to your room and carry him to his room...," muttered the absolutely stunned Anna. She didn't know what part of the story was more confusing.

"He is too heavy! I can't even drag him on my own - we need help," whispered Mary between her quiet sobbing. "How about Bates?"

Anna was surprised by Mary's situation - she had been sleeping with the young Ambassador's son and he died on her?! And Mary's shocked, confused pale face was no longer its' usual, indifferent look, but instead... full of tears. Mary wasn't that expressive, and she was usually good at hiding her emotions. But seeing her that upset made Anna's confusion increase even more.

"How about William? Oh, no, wait - he can't keep a secret... Thomas won't do it... someone from the family?," she asked.

"Not Papa!". The idea that her father would discover what happened made Mary shiver.

"No, not his Lordship..."

...

Cora was shocked at the task she was asked to execute. Kemal Pamuk, a healthy young man, dead? In her eldest daughter's bedroom? Should anyone possibly find out, they'd think she poisoned him or somehow managed to kill him herself. The thought of the situation making it to the press would ruin the family. And Cora was a bit shocked at what her daughter had done - she slept with a man she had just met hours before! If Lady Flincher or other women of high society found out, the family's reputation would be stained forever. Not that these families never had to deal with scandals. Quite the contrary - even the Royal family had rebels - but they hid it well. If Mary was prosecuted and accused of murder? Cora estimated the chances of someone discovering that he might have died from poisoning instead of natural causes… and the blame would be utterly put to the Crawley family.

But, whilst they were carrying the dead man through the halls of the Abbey, they had no idea that two more people were observing them. An impressionable and gullible second assistant cook, and a woman capable of terrible things.

…..

Dr. Anthony Strallen also had a double occupation: that of a Sir; an inherited title. But he adored being a forensic surgeon with a specialist in pathology. Although he often did necropsies and autopsies, he adored the general art of medicine. As the poshest and best-known forensic surgeon in Yorkshire, and owned of a neighboring estate to Downton, he seemed like the perfect choice to Cora – Robert had met him once or twice in unforgettable parties, but he had found him to be awfully dull, so he never really sought out friendship with the man. Cora was determined to get Sir Anthony to claim it was a heart attack. Whether it was one, or not.


	4. Bonitas non est pessimis esse meliorem

_WN: Hello! I'm sorry for the delay in posting this, but I had tendonitis and wasn't allowed to write anything for a week, and I've been quite busy in the past week… but REVIEW! _

"I think it's horrible," whispered Sybil. Edith rolled her eyes.

"You always think death is horrible, darling. This is reality".

Mary couldn't participate in the conversation. Her thoughts were focused on other issues, albeit related to the subject that they were conversing about… but she would not dare voice her thoughts and problems.

"Oh, but he was so young! Dying young is always so… awful. Imagine what he could've gone on to do! He could have changed the world, and he could have gone on to do so much good…" the determination in her voice was eminent. Although she was terribly sweet, whenever she felt passionate about something, she became stubborn and determined. "And I can't imagine how terrible his family must feel… or poor Evelyn…"

"Evelyn did look very upset when he left, yesterday! It makes me feel terrible when I can't do anything to comfort someone who is troubled. Though that's what usually happens". Edith and Sybil were more similar than one would think. They both had terrific amounts of compassion, though the youngest Crawley expressed her compassion much more freely, whilst Edith lacked motivation to find a purpose to pursue.

Neither of the girls noticed that their elder sister, who was trying on different pairs of heels at the moment, had tear-stained eyes, scarlet cheeks and was surprisingly quiet. Mary's pain was coursing through her veins, it was like she had been electrocuted, or worse; a shock fulfilled her. She felt responsible for Kemal's death.

"I wouldn't want to die before having fulfilled a purpose, or a dream of mine… I think it'd be ideal if I left behind people and situations altered by my existence in the world. But you'd find that overly idealistic, wouldn't you?", she joked.

"No, I actually understand it, I think. But it's easier said than done".

…..

"Edith, I think you should apply for the secretarial job at Sir Anthony's office, at least for the summer", said Cora to her blonde daughter.

"But I want to be a biochemist, mum, not a forensic surgeon. Besides, I have no prior experience and I don't really need a job", she paused for a few seconds. "I could be an assistant managing files or observing his work… but nothing more"

"You can do it". Edith had never been overly encouraged by her family to do anything, or at least, not as much as her sisters. She never stood out in anything. She always had less friends and boyfriends than Mary, and she wasn't a little spoiled and pampered like Sybil. She was just Edith. She had found her "calling" in Biochemistry, but was accepted only by the University of Yorkshire, a situation Mary had found hilarious, and sometimes joked about how Edith would become a "plain country science teacher". Edith would always get angry at such statements, but she knew there was nothing she could really do about it. Since she was little, Mary and her detested each other, so their quarrels were frequent and intense. They couldn't be broken until Sybil, a governess or their parents put an end to them. It started out as being just about toys or games, then about magazines of boy bands or even other boy-related issues. And although they were 19 and 21, the catfights remained the same. Maybe a little less hair pulling, but that spite between them was fiery. Deep down, they knew they loved each other a great deal – but they very, very rarely expressed it. Maybe it was the unwillingness of both parties to give in, maybe it was because their hatred got the best of them. Together they just didn't work out. Solitary, both had their virtues and vices. But Edith always felt overshadowed by Mary.

Edith was no shrinking violet, though – she wanted to be in the spotlight, she longed to follow Mary's footsteps in becoming popular with the press. But she couldn't, everyone knew she wasn't as fierce and impetuous as Mary, the stunning young woman with the alabastrine face and the looks of a Greek Goddess. She'd often compare her looks to her sisters'. She envied Mary's porcelain skin and Sybil's baby face, both girls managing to look nothing like each other but a great deal like their parents. But Edith was the only blonde in the family; and not even a shade she considered pretty, just a dull colour, which she wasn't allowed to alter or change in any way because her mother forbade her to do so. She never asked, of course, but she knew what they'd do. Sybil had once joked about getting blue highlights once, in her own hair – a joke which Cora perceived in a more literal sense than it was intended to be, so she had to made all the girls promise they'd never, ever do anything drastic with their hair colours. Only variations of their natural hair colour. So Edith's wish to dye her hair a fiery red colour had to remain a secret. Mary once dyed her hair a lighter brown, which exasperated both their mother and their grandmother, so she had to dye it her natural shade after a while. Edith was not going to risk ruining whatever respect she had gained within the family.

Her dream was to find true, honest and deep affection, and one of her main goals was to get married before she was 30. She would often reflect upon the facts that such a thing was unlikely, but still wanted it. She didn't daydream much, but she knew where her heart lied.

"Sure, I will apply", said Edith with absolute determination.

….

Cora, despite her loving and generally nice nature, was forming a master plan. She would arrange for Sir Anthony to perform the necropsy and convince him to lie, if necessary, about the cause of death. She sent Edith to work there, not to solely occupy her daughter's time, but to be able to sneak in and steal or destroy any document that might be used against Mary or the family in the future.

Edith did get the job, and she had arranged to work at Dr. Strallen's office three times a week, mainly to answer phones and book appointments, and occasionally, if needed, assist him in his work. On her first day, she wore her favourite casual outfit, a blue shirt with jeans, and felt confident as she walked to the town close by on a Tuesday morning. She was greeted by the cheerful Sir Anthony, and got to work.

"_I might like it here,"_ she thought.

…

Edith unsurprisingly enjoyed working for Dr. Strallen. On her second day, she knew they would do a biopsy of the Turkish man who had died at Downton Abbey a couple of days before, to determine the cause of his death. At about noon, Edith's mother and elder sister dropped by, to "see how she is settling in" – but instead of caring about the person they claimed they were there to see, both just went into Sir Anthony's laboratory.

"Good evening, Lady Grantham and Lady Mary", he said, as he looked down on his microscope, before putting it away and standing up to greet them. Cora couldn't tell if his face was meant to be so miserable-looking at times, or if events made it like that. But his already sad-looking face seemed confused.

"Good evening, Sir Anthony" – Cora's voice was cut off by Mary's. "Is there any progress on determining the cause of death?", she asked in a hurried manner.

Strallen was confused and abashed at her sudden request, but after giving it a few seconds of thought, he found it perfectly understandable.

"Yes, yes," he muttered, looking through his papers. "I checked his blood and there are traces of a certain drug which can…well… kill you instantly".

"A drug?", both women exclaimed at the same time.

"It is Peruvian, and rare. Technically, he could've been poisoned, unless he somehow got it in his system by himself".

"Oh my God!", was Cora's initial reaction. Mary felt like tearing up, something she had done more frequently in the past few days than ever before. But she was not going to show the world her weakness; she'd wait until she was alone or with Anna. She had no clue how she could have been that foolish, that stupid – and how she was more mature than she had been two days before. She lost a great deal of sleep, she wouldn't eat or drink anything, she was not in the mood for doing any social activities. She knew that she had to restrain and contain her emotions, to be calm, refined and cold; careful. That was the image she had to show to the world, and that was the image the world was accustomed of with her. She had to pressure herself more than ever to keep her heartbeat steady and not collapse or have a fit in front of a stranger.

"How terrible! Who would do such a thing?", she exclaimed, much to her mother's shock. What Mary wanted was for her mother to play along.

"I don't know, Lady Mary. But I believe that after my report, the police will… have to inspect Downton Abbey. And there is a great chance your cook might be arrested".

"Sir Anthony… I have a small favour to ask of you", said Cora.

"Yes, Lady Grantham?"

"You see, I have complete faith in our chef, Mrs. Patmore. She is not crazy, nor is she a spy that wishes to kill random guests. Besides, wouldn't it be too intricate for any of our staff to poison one young man, a guest, without poisoning us?"

"You… you have a point, but-"

"Should Downton be inspected, it would make the house notorious and the unstained reputation of the family would be disgraced. Surely, Sir Anthony, you do not want _that_!". Cora's determination was jaw-dropping. Mary had never seen her mother like this before; she was terrifying and convincing. Determination combined with warmth always results in persuasiveness.

"Uh"

Sir Anthony's wide-eyed confusion at the realization of what was being asked of him was the perfect chance for her to continue trying to convince him about it, along with Mary.

….

"We must ask Edith to steal the file," murmured Mary right after they had walked out of the building where Strallen worked.

"But then she'd have to know about it!"

Mary contemplated on the prospect for a few seconds. "You're right. She can't keep a secret. I will take her keys to the office, sneak in, and… do it".

'What about security cameras?"

"If anyone spots me, well… I could always lie, you know. Tell them Edith forgot her phone back there or her jacket. If they don't believe me… well, they will have to know who we are, how influential we are and how their jobs are at stake. Easy peasy".

Cora was stunned at how connive and cunning her daughter seemed. But Mary had every right to be so – she would soon be characterized by maturity. After all, the most damaged people are the wisest.


End file.
